


Ghost

by NoirSongbird



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hux is Surprisingly Nice, M/M, Post-Canon, implied depression, when he wants to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7348558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoirSongbird/pseuds/NoirSongbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Snoke's final defeat, Kylo Ren is left surrounded by a family that has no idea what to do with him and without a sense of purpose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost

Former General Hux had very few visitors. His prison cell was empty, and he languished in near-isolation for most of his days, with only the guards for anything approaching social interaction. He did not have a cellmate and was only occasionally allowed recreation, because many of the other people imprisoned with him wanted him dead for some crime or another of the First Order’s.  
  
Half the punishment of a life sentence instead of a swift execution, Hux suspected, was the slowly maddening loneliness.   
  
So he was genuinely surprised when his guards informed him he did, in fact, have a visitor.  
  
He was even more surprised to see that it was General Leia Organa.  
  
She met the eyes of the two guards who were supposed to watch them, and said, voice full of the Force persuasion he had heard her son use a thousand times, “you do not need to observe our conversation.”  
  
“We do not need to observe your conversation.” The guards repeated, and then they turned around and left the room, leaving Hux alone with Organa. He felt a thousand questions bubble up, and chief among them was a burning urge to ask about Kylo Ren. Or - perhaps he was calling himself Ben Organa again, these days. Hux wasn’t sure, hadn’t seen the man since he slipped off the Finalizer late into the ship’s night cycle and never returned.  
  
(Hux had been pretending since that Ren leaving hadn’t broken his heart. It was obvious that whatever feelings Hux had developed over the course of their sexual relationship, Ren did not reciprocate. That was fine.)  
  
(It was also fine that Ren hadn’t been there for his trial, hadn’t even attempted to visit, had obviously put Hux completely in the past. Fine. It was fine.)  
  
“I had no idea you could use the Force,” Hux said conversationally, instead of some horribly desperate-sounding question about the health of his former lover who, he was sure, was absolutely fine. Ren was among a family that forgave him for his transgressions and took him back in. He couldn’t be doing too badly.  
  
“I know a few things,” Organa said, and then she sighed. “I find myself in the uncomfortable position of needing your help.”  
  
“My help?” Hux asked, entirely bewildered. “I can’t imagine what you think I can do for you, locked up here.”  
  
“Not for me.” Organa said. “For my son.” Hux started, surprised. There was less than nothing he could do for Ren, he was sure, but - well. Organa had come all the way out here, had revealed her Force abilities, clearly she thought he could do something.  
  
“What do you imagine I can do for him that you can’t?” Hux asked. “He has made it well and clear that he wants nothing to do with me, I think.”  
  
“You know him better than any of us,” Organa admitted, and it sounded like it pained her to say so. “You knew him after Snoke, and all I know is the teenage boy. You two were in command together for a significant period of time, yes?”  
  
“Six years,” Hux acknowledged, “though I’m not sure I ever knew him at all.” He tried not to let his bitterness seep through, and failed, and Organa’s smile turned sad.  
  
“You saw more of him than I ever did,” she said, “but - since Snoke’s demise, he has been listless, depressed - he won’t respond to any of us, but my son has strong feelings for you, one way or another, and I am...hopeful that he will respond to your presence.” Hux tried to picture it, failed. Ren wasn’t listless, he was angry, emotional, the opposite of everything Organa was describing. The very idea was terribly wrong.   
  
And. Strong feelings. Hux refused to allow himself to hope. Loathing was a strong feeling. But if he could make Ren angry again, push him into a fight, at least it would be something, which was better than what Organa was describing.  
  
“I’ll help, if I can.” Hux said. “I’m still not sure I’m the person you want for this.”  
  
“Oh, I think you are,” Organa replied, and there was something knowing in her voice. “Come with me.”

 

* * *

 

  
  
Kylo Ren was distantly aware that he had barely gotten out of bed for nearly three days, and that he hadn’t left his cabin for significantly longer.  
  
He also could not make himself care.  
  
Ever since he had finally helped strike down Snoke, it felt like nothing really mattered. All that stretched ahead of him was emptiness - no one in his family actually wanted him around, they were too angry with or afraid of him. The Resistance fighters despised him, no matter what he had done. It was why he had moved away from the base, thrown himself together a crude shelter in the woods surrounding it, far enough away that everyone living there could forget he existed.  
  
That would be nice, to be forgotten.  
  
There was a knock at his door, and Kylo thought he was hallucinating it at first, until he reached out with the Force just enough to tell him that there was a living being outside his door.  
  
He tucked himself further under his blanket, certain that if he pretended not to be there, whoever it was would leave. Or set up outside to wait for him to “return,” but either way the knocking would stop.  
  
It did, for a while, until Kylo detected the sound of someone picking the non-electronic lock. He swore to himself and ducked under even further, curling into as tight a ball as he could manage and hoping whoever it was would give up and leave him alone to waste away.  
  
He had served his purpose, there was nothing else left for him.  
  
There were footsteps on the floor, a cadence he refused to acknowledge as familiar. (It was strange that he should know the sound of a specific person’s steps so well, especially after going without hearing them for so long.)  
  
“Oh, Ren,” an agonizingly familiar voice said, and Kylo somehow managed to burrow further under, bracing himself for the inevitable mockery. Instead, the blanket was gently partially peeled back, and fingers delicately brushed over his hair, the only part of him exposed. Kylo winced. His hair was probably an oily, matted clump. The gentle strokes continued, and every single one made Kylo want to bury himself in the blanket further. This was clearly not real, because Hux was not gentle, and that was who he was imagining stroking his hair. Hux was in prison, besides. Snoke had tried to convince him Hux was dead, but Kylo was sure he would have felt the extinguishing of the General’s spark, somehow.   
  
“How long have you been like this?” Not-Hux asked, and he sounded pained, which was definitely all wrong.  
  
“Why do you care?” Kylo shot back, sounding desperately petulant. The hand on his hair jerked, as if not-Hux had full-body flinched. “You aren’t real, and you despise me. You should be enjoying this.”  
  
“Is that really what you think of me?” The voice sounded distinctly hurt now, and Kylo felt something like guilt settle in the pit of his stomach because he did not want to hurt Hux but this wasn’t Hux, couldn't be, so it was fine, really, it was fine, he would bark and snap at this hallucination or Force-trick or dream until it left him alone and stopped tormenting him with what he could never have.  
  
(Hux was not soft, Hux was not tender, no matter how he had given himself to affection in quieter hours. No matter what Kylo wanted. No matter how desperately Kylo wanted it.)  
  
“Of course it is,” Kylo said. “You made it clear every day, all the time - you liked me enough to let me warm your bed and nothing more. You’re like everyone else, you have something you want from me and once you’ve gotten it I’m worthless. So just...go. Please.”  
  
“Ren,” Not-Hux sounded so very upset, which was just more confirmation that it wasn’t Hux, because Ren was sure Hux would have rolled his eyes and walked away long ago, with no patience for his “tantrums.” Hux certainly would not have sat down on the bed and begun gently carding his fingers through Kylo’s hair, but that was what the hallucination did. “You can’t really believe I hated you. You drove me mad, certainly, and you were the closest thing to competition I had - and Snoke seemed to amuse himself playing us off each other for his favor - but hate you? No.”  
  
“You acted like it,” Kylo said, slightly petulant, and he knew it was, because Hux only acted like he hated Kylo when Kylo was needling him, challenging him, pressing him. When they had been alone together, rank and duty tossed aside --  
  
Well. It had at least been mutually satisfying, physically. And it certainly wasn’t Hux’s fault that Kylo had fallen too hard and too much, had taken more than was there out of their encounters.  
  
“Did I really?” Not-Hux asked, sounding faintly regretful. Then he was tugging at the blankets, carefully pulling them away from Kylo’s face, which made Kylo cringe. A hand found his chin, delicately tugging, encouraging him to turn his head. “Come on, Ren, look at me, please,” not-Hux encouraged, and Kylo relented, listlessly, letting not-Hux turn his head and blinking in even the low light filtered in through his closed curtains.   
  
It certainly looked like Hux, though his hair had grown out some and he looked tired in a way he never did on the Finalizer. He also looked, impossibly, like he’d lost weight, and he was wearing a loose shirt and pants that were obviously a bit too big for him, likely something scavenged off the base. He seemed - well, he seemed remarkably solid, for a Force trick or a hallucination.   
  
“Maker, Ren,” Hux said, and he almost sounded like he was - teasing? - “I thought Starkiller was your rock bottom, but apparently I underestimated your determination. Clearly, you brought your pickaxe and were prepared to dig.”  
  
Kylo found himself cracking something close to a smile for the first time in --- probably since the last time he had been in Hux’s quarters, curled up against him, sleepy and sated.  
  
“Asshole,” he said fondly.  
  
“Someone has to be, apparently,” Hux said, and for the first time, Kylo really believed it was him.  
  
“What are you doing here?” He asked, faintly. ‘I thought you were in prison,’ he didn’t say, ‘I thought you would never want to see me again.’ “I destroyed everything you loved.” He said, finally.  
  
“Not everything, not yet,” Hux said, and then he began to disentangle the blankets from around Kylo. “Your mother thought I might be able to pull something out of you, since everyone else has spectacularly failed, so she broke me out of prison. It was remarkable, honestly. Now come on, get up, you’ve wallowed quite enough. Maker, I think I prefer the destructive tantrums, this is just wrong.”  
  
Kylo actually moved to do as he was bid, unwinding himself from the nest of blankets and letting Hux haul him out of bed and to the refresher. Hux peeled off Kylo’s clothes, still the thin things he had been given when he left the Resistance medbay after the battle with Snoke, and then stripped himself, herding Kylo into the shower.  
  
“I don’t believe my mother sent you,” Kylo said finally, once they were under the warm spray - water, because it was easier for him to hook up and this planet had it in abundance. “She doesn’t care what happens to me.”  
  
“Of course she cares,” Hux said, “she’s your mother. And why would I lie about that?”  
  
“I…” Kylo blinked, and considered. True, there was no reason for Hux to lie, and less of one for him to choose that lie. “Alright,” he said, faintly, and then Hux’s fingers were in his hair, scrubbing in shampoo, and Kylo sighed, resting his head on Hux’s shoulder and letting him scrub Kylo down the way the former Knight had refused to do for himself.  
  
When they were done in the shower, Hux coaxed Kylo into clean clothes and then drew him into the kitchen, sitting him down at the table.  
  
“Am I right in assuming you haven’t eaten while you were bundled up in that lump?” Hux asked, dryly. Kylo shook his head, and Hux sighed, diving into his conservator and pulling out some vegetables and a hunk of meat. Kylo didn’t remember putting any of them in there. Someone else must have, he recognized vaguely, and he wondered who while he watched Hux get down to preparing a meal. It didn’t seem to matter much, except he knew it should. He just couldn’t quite make it.  
  
“I just don’t understand,” he said finally, staring down at the table. “Why she would get you, why she would do all that. She wanted me to die. They all did. They wanted me to die fighting Snoke because they don’t know what to do with me now. She’s still angry about Han, Skywalker is still angry about his temple, they all still hate me. I can feel it. And I don’t. I don't have a purpose anymore. I should have died, I’ll just waste away out here.” Hux glanced at the food cooking, turned off the fire, and walked over to him, putting hands on either side of his face.  
  
“Oh, Ren,” he said, and then he was carefully folding himself into Kylo’s lap. “No wonder you’re all the way out here, of that’s what you feel every time you’re around people.” Kylo dropped his head onto Hux’s shoulder again, and fingers began to gently card through his still-damp hair. “But your mother must still care, if she was desperate enough to reach out to me. To break me out of prison and bring me here. And she must have been onto something, since I’ve gotten you out of bed.”  
  
“Only because I don't have it in me to fight you,” Kylo said, arms snaking around Hux’s waist. “I missed you,” he sighed, “but I thought you wouldn’t want to see me.”  
  
“I missed you too, Ren, I’ve been missing you since you flew off.” Hux said. He pressed his face into Kylo’s hair and laughed, humorlessly. “When the Resistance captured me, I thought - hoped, really - that you might end up interrogating me. Just so I could see you again.”  
  
“They locked me down while you were on base,” Kylo said. “I think they thought I might try to break you out.”  
  
“Would you have?” Hux asked.  
  
“I...don't know,” he admitted. “I…” He stopped.  
  
“You what?” Hux urged. There was something in his voice Kylo couldn’t quite identify.   
  
“I. Care. About you. Very deeply. It’s. Why I left.” Kylo said, and he tensed, waiting for the inevitable rejection. Because of course one was coming. Especially after what Hux had seen here. He was no longer the mighty warrior Kylo Ren, if he ever had been, since his fierceness and anger had always just been a thin, fragile cover over insecurity and fear. And now Hux was seeing him with the cover stripped away, and surely that would be the end of any feelings Hux had for him.  
  
“You’re going to have to explain that one to me,” Hux said. “Not the...the feelings, that was clear enough, but how you caring for me necessitated you leaving me.” There was the same edge in his voice, which Kylo was beginning to suspect might be betrayal.  
  
“Snoke would have made me kill you eventually,” Kylo said. “I knew it as soon as I realized how strongly I felt, that Snoke would want me to kill you like I killed my father and like he wanted me to kill my uncle and my mother and everyone else I had ever cared about. I couldn’t do that. And I couldn’t sit around and wait for the order and - and I thought. I was sure. That you didn’t feel the same way. I thought you would be glad to be rid of me and my destructive outbursts and…all of that.”  
  
“Oh, Ren, for a mind reader you are remarkably thick,” Hux said, and then he was tilting Kylo’s head up and kissing him slowly, and Kylo groaned into Hux’s lips.   
  
“I’m not letting them take you back to prison,” Kylo said breathlessly. “I’m not letting anyone take you away from me again.”   
  
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Hux said, “because I do not want to go back to prison. But let me feed you first, and help you put yourself together. Then we can plan our grand escape.”  
  
Kylo nodded eagerly. This was what he needed - a purpose, something to do with his life. And here was Hux, deposited in his lap by providence to give it to him. He let Hux go, out of his lap, watching him with a new light in his eyes.  
  
“How opposed are you to smuggling?” Kylo asked. Hux laughed, as he returned his attention to the meal on the stove.  
  
“I think smuggling sounds like an absolutely excellent way to spend as much of the rest of our lives as we can.” Hux replied.  
  
The rest of their lives. Kylo thought that sounded wonderful.


End file.
